


A Serving Size a Day

by 00QEros (Dassandre)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Bondage, Character Voice Development, Consensual Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/pseuds/00QEros
Summary: Orders given to Double-Os must always be clear and precise. If there’s too much room for interpretation, the results can be rather ... unexpected.





	A Serving Size a Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts), [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts).



> I blame The Boffin and Ashe for this plot bunny. In this case, that’s a good thing, though. :)
> 
>  
> 
> This has not been beta read as I worked on this when I should have been sleeping. It’s 2 am, and all mistakes are my own.

The width of Alec’s grin grew in proportion to the volume of the groans spilling from the lips of the man writhing before him.

  
He’d tried to contain it. The smile.

  
Initially.

  
Had kept his expression stoic, cold — more immobile than Stonehenge some had called it; though few who had were around anymore — giving nothing away as was his wont in these situations, but sometimes ...sometimes you just _had_ to let go and take pride in your work, yeah?

  
And what lay before him was practically a sodding masterpiece.

  
He’d not done this before. Well, at least not this _way_ , before. And wasn’t that a helluva thing?

  
He turned his eyes from the man, bound hand and foot, to the tools he was using to create this magnum opus. They were small. Not much larger than the tip of his little finger, but in psychological terms, they held more explosive power than the Semtex microbomb he’d been kitted out with for his last mission.

  
Alec picked one up and rolled it around in the palm of his hand, appreciating how its shiny outer shell caught the sunlight that spilled into the room. When he cracked it open, the man began to pull harder at his bonds, but to little avail. Alec was an expert with ropes and ties and other devices that restrained. There was no give. Not hand nor foot, and certainly not from the wide leather straps that secured the man’s torso and hips.

  
The groans turned to pleas for mercy.

  
Not quite yet. But maybe not at all.

  
He had to give him credit, though, Alec did. He’d been torturing with the poor sod for nearly an hour — James had always accused him of spending too much time playing around with his food, and Alec supposed he was right — but the man had set himself up. Deserved everything that Alec could give him, and more.

  
Alec bent low over the man who stared at him from the corner of his eyes — hazel, fully dialated in spite of the bright room.  Alec whispered in his ear.

  
“Hold very still, and I might, _might_ grant you that mercy you’ve been begging me for.”

  
He plucked the tiny weapon from his palm, and with a preternaturally steady hand, placed it just beneath the glans of Q’s solid, weeping cock where nature had gifted his love with just a little bit of a hollow to cup the pistachio. Q’s cock twitched as Alec drew his fingers away, but the nut remained safe and secure. Alec kissed the base of Q’s penis appreciatively.

  
“You’re amazing,” he whispered, smile growing even wider.

  
“And you’re a fucking prick, Trevelyan!” Q huffed between strained breaths. Alec had had him on edge, denying him his release time after time, pistachio after pistachio, and he dared not move a millimeter lest he be denied again. “This is _not_ what I expected when I tossed you that damn bag of nuts!”

  
“‘Here, distract your hunger with these,’ you said.” Alec gestured with his free hand at the scattered pistachio nuts and empty shells on the rumpled bed sheets. “You know better than to issue me an order that’s open to _so_ many interpretations.”

  
Alec’s breath was warm against Q’s bollocks, his fingers again playing at Q’s hole as he’d been doing off and on for an hour now. The boffin whimpered in spite of himself.

  
“Please, Alec! Please!”

  
“Well, since you ask so prettily …”

  
Two slick fingers breached Q’s entrance at the same time Alec sucked away the pistachio, tongue swirling around the head of Q’s cock just before Alec’s teeth nipped carefully at the glans.

  
Q’s shout echoed through the bedroom as his come, denied release for so bloody long, shot in thick streams practically to his collarbone. When he came to himself again, Alec had released him from the bonds, but instead of wiping him down with a flannel, had apparently licked Q’s chest clean for he tasted both pistachios and himself in Alec’s kiss.

  
Not as off-putting a taste as one might expect, oddly enough.

  
“Wha’ ‘bout you?” Q asked sleepily as Alec pulled him in close to his side. Of all things, Alec Trevelyan was an even bigger post-coital snuggler than James Bond.

  
“Came right after you did, luv,” he assured. “Fucking hottest thing I’ve seen in long time. Couldn’t have kept it in even if I’d wanted to.”

  
Q grinned into Alec’s bare shoulder. “Sleep now,” Alec insisted.

  
Q did.

  
The next afternoon Q was at his desk tidying up some code he’d written, and Alec was sat on the sofa reading, when James came out of their bedroom. He held something cupped in the palm of his hand, and the confused look was not something his lovers usually saw on his face.

  
“James?” Q asked, closing his laptop. “What’s wrong?”

  
“I found all these pistachio shells underneath my side of the bed, but I’ll be damned if I remember eating any.”

  
James looked up from the shells he held at the sound of Alec’s sudden coughing fit.

  
Q stood and closed James’ hand around the shells and then wrapped his own hand around it. He leaned in and whispered huskily in James’ ear. “You know, I’ve not had a pistachio in a _long_ time. Care to share some with me, love?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. Comments are love! Especially to those who can’t sleep.


End file.
